


Hannibal 30 Day Prompts

by MessyScandinoodle



Series: 30 day prompt challenge [1]
Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Doctor Strange (2016), Hannibal (TV), Jagten | The Hunt (2012)
Genre: 30 day prompts, Aftercare, Blood Donation, Drabbles, First Person, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, NSFW, Past Child Abuse, Vomit Mention, bedtime murder husbands, mixed works, smoking mention, third person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-02 00:23:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 13,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10204385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MessyScandinoodle/pseuds/MessyScandinoodle
Summary: prompts found fromthis hereA mash up of all the works I am currently doing for the 30 day challenge. I hope you enjoy!





	1. Day 1 - Dream

**Author's Note:**

> These are my first real fics. I've done writing before but never fanfiction, and I didn't really post what I did write before anywhere. I hope you all enjoy these, any critiques or comments are certainly appreciated!

Hannibal’s eyes rolled behind his lids. Uncharacteristic dreams plaguing his nightly cycle. Not that he didn’t dream, after all it was scientifically proven everyone dreams, even if they don’t recall by the time they’ve come back to consciousness. Nightmares however, were the oddity. A scratch in the well polished routine he had adopted since childhood. Sound, pleasant sleep, only interrupted by murder dates or a rude guest.  
The source of these nightmares was the man that slept beside him, sweating into their sheets. Love doesn’t immediately fix a man’s fears, and Will’s sleep was still fitful. Apparently love could also wiggle its own parasites into the mind. Chewing away at once stable structures.  
His dreams led him into the depths of his memory palace. Into the catacombs where he shoved all the memories and thoughts he wished not to deal with, or had promptly scheduled to deal with them later. Yet he followed his mongoose down into the labyrinth, doe eyes coaxing him with an outstretched hand. A work-worn hand he could not quite get his own to touch. The last week had been the same, being lured into this dark place.  
The deeper they went, the further away Will got. The space between them made it difficult to even see him. He was following more by scent than sight, breaths swelling his chest in quick bursts of growing panic. The faster he walked, the faster Will walked, twisting through the maze as if it were his design. Hannibal felt lost in his own mind, which was disillusioning enough, and struggled to keep up. Eventually his form disappeared into the ink. He called for him, feeling his chest growing tight. What if he got lost in here forever, and couldn’t find his way? It wasn’t possible Will could find his way out on his own. The panic grew as he called for him, and then finally Will replied, standing right before him.

“Hannibal!” A jab by an indignant elbow pulled him to the surface of the waking world immediately.  
“What are you talking about?” Wills hair was a tangled mess, eyes puffy from sleep, and rather sharp looking in the dim light. His lips were pressed tight with aggravation at being woken up, since it would take him at least an hour to fall back to sleep. Hannibal didn’t mind his sharp look, or his rough treatment. His strong arms grabbed his huffy mate, and pulled him to his chest. He snuffled his messy locks, and smiled lazily as Will huffed,  
“The dark makes you even more weird.” Hannibal just grunted at the criticism, and croaked a soft, “Rude.” into his curls before closing his eyes and relaxing. William wasn’t going anywhere. Not right now at least. Not ever he could help it.


	2. Day 2 - Lock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's idea of love has been shattered, just like the teacups of the past.

Carefully tucked away on a shelf, love was exalted to the highest it could be in the chambers of my mind. Divine, a goddess that I would never be worthy to touch. Too dirty, too fowl is my heart, perhaps my very soul. I keep her safe in her cage, my heart safely placed in her hands. I guard her with a  **lock.**

I grieve for her now, never to be released from the cage I have put her in. She becomes dim, and forgotten. I grow, and she no longer follows. Specific touches may remind me of her at times, but she has become dusty, yet still so divine and bright she is. I dare not even look for the key anymore. 

I stand before him, my jaw is set, feeling the dull ache I had felt so many times before. Unaware, completely unaware he could ever bare the lock. How could someone with such a dark touch, an evil aura, release the goddess safely perched in her cage? She is infinitely beautiful, glowing from her own energy. She is not what I feel for this man. She is not this man. Yet she is.

His inky hands have cracked my ribs at the sternum, opened my cavity, and used the key he possesses to release her. She is no longer bright and exalted. She is dark, dirty, smudged with blood, and the ink from his darkness. He pulled her from my chest, transformed her, and then with the surgical precision he always had, placed her back inside to dwell a transformed creature. 

  
**I love him. It is not beautiful, nor divine.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't really done first person a lot, and this may seem a little pretentious but. I hope you all enjoyed? ;u;


	3. Day 3 - Bitterness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Graham has no patience for a flirty florist's fleeting fancies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I made this more jealousy than bitterness W O O P S 
> 
> Enjoy!

**_The meat is bitter about being dead._ **

 

Steely blue eyes gazed at the woman before him. She was tall, with dark, long locks, very beautiful. Too beautiful. Too much like an old friend, and too much like a bad memory. Hannibal’s eyes easily reflected his flirtatious nature.  Will Graham felt the bitter rage already nursing in his chest.  Hannibal could woo a woman with just the touch of his finger it seemed. He was curt to their new florist, making sure to be as disinterested as possible. Her name left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he refused to speak it. She was officially titled “The Florist”. 

The anger clawed up his chest, into his throat. It made it tight and sore, scratching its way up to his brain, and planting a seed. She couldn’t stay. In fact she was most definitely going to go. After all, his husband deserved a nice big bouquet for himself. He smiled to himself as she spoke, already planning her demise. He figured he should probably be ashamed. Alana wasn’t truly any part of Hannibal’s life. She was a pawn, and an easy lay. A distant memory that Hannibal had promised to devour, yet even that made his gut churn. Still, Hannibal’s maroon eyes ate up The Florists figure as if he was a teenage boy. Will knew that Hannibal knew exactly what he was doing.

She began coming more frequently, and without flowers. Hannibal invited her to tea. Will played disney princess like the good boy he was. He sipped his tea, and made what little small talk he could. Hannibal excused his ‘behavior’, but he could see the amused glint in his eyes. It just made his chest burn hotter. He thought this was funny. No doubt he was purring within himself, loving the attention. Hannibal liked to play with fire, and Will wanted to burn him with it so badly. 

 

Will waited by the door. The call had been made, and the oblivious woman was on her way with a luxurious bouquet. Of course it was still being bought with Hannibal’s money, so did it really count? Well he would certainly make up for it with the extra gift.  As soon as the woman knocked, he opened the door and ushered her in. She smelled of dirt and plant life, which he was sure gave Hannibal a giant hard on. With that thought, the heavy vase he had been holding smashed over her head. As she fell forward, he shut the door. She is still conscious, pleading. It falls on deaf ears. The wrath of the lamb was upon her. 

It wouldn’t be a bloody kill. It simply wasn’t his design. No, he preferred, always preferred, to use his hands. He straddled her, using his weight to keep her from getting away. Hands wrapped around her throat, clenching her windpipe. The blood was unable to flow to the brain, and air could just barely reach the lungs. It would be a slow, desperate death. Will was a patient hunter.  He had to work quickly, and found himself far more clumsy than Hannibal was when it came to making art. Will had the steady hands of a fisherman, and a hunter. He was careful, and delicate with the fragile bones. 

 

Waiting for Hannibal when he entered the home, was a luxurious bouquet of  calla lilies, green hydrangeas, roses, sprayrose's, some other assorted flowers, and, the grand finale, the woman's finger bones. Carefully washed and arranged into the flowers, tied delicately together by fishing wire. A card was left in the bouquet, a bloody thumb print left on it as a signature. 


	4. Day 4 - Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by this post 
> 
> http://messy-scandinoodle.tumblr.com/post/158102078715/after-will-kills-hobbs-i-always-thought-the-blood 
> 
> Apparently hyper links don't work in the summary...
> 
> Hannibal the naughty, scheming cannibal. Featuring Will Graham's sunburnt ass.

It wasn’t supposed to get quite this far. It started with a photo op. In their new home, the sun was always nice and warm, and his lover being who he is, enjoyed being out in it. It brought something very important to his attention. Will Graham, had freckles. Not faint freckles either. After just a few days out in the sun had thoroughly sprinkled him. As gentle hands pushed the layers of clothes, preparing him for a bath, he had first noticed them. They seemed to grow every day, and Hannibal was completely smitten. The freckles dotted over his face, cheeks and nose. They made small constellations on his arms and shoulder, and trailed down his back.

Hannibal wanted to know what else would freckle. He insisted Will begin sunbathing outside, with nothing on. His mongoose of course protested,   
“I would rather not sunburn my ass, Hannibal.” This only got Hannibal’s mind working double time,

“I will make sure to adequately apply the sunscreen.” his eyes danced with mischief, and Will felt that all too familiar feeling one gets when they are about to do something stupid. He felt like he was putting his head in the lion’s mouth.

 

There he lay, in all his angelic beauty, the sun giving him a glowing aura it seemed. Will’s face did not look so angelic, he squirmed as Hannibal approached. Considering Will hardly liked the lights on when their nightly activities commenced, this made sense. He wanted Will to love his body like Hannibal loved his body. Completely, just as it is. Except maybe better with a few more freckles.   
Reverent hands glided over his flesh, slicked by the sunscreen. The horribly cheap sunscreen he had purchased specifically for this. Yes he was a wicked, conniving man, but this was very important. He had to know what exactly these freckles could do. Luckily for him, Will was not savvy to this, and was not as astute to know that this sunscreen was not as good as what Hannibal usually lathered him with.

He took his time applying it all the same, hands gliding over his strong back, admiring the muscles through his touch. He closed his eyes to make the experience better, working in circular motions to rub the cream into his skin. Working his way down, he felt Will tense once he was to the dimples of his back, “Shhhh, mongoose… relax. Think of your stream.” He coaxed patiently, and waited until he felt his muscles relax to continue.

Will’s butt was very round, and very pale at the moment. Hannibal’s hands squeezed naughtily, and Will merely grunted in his relaxed daze. After spending way more than enough time on his cheeks, he made his way down his thick legs. He always marveled at just how large his calves were, and he adored them. Finally, he finished with his feet, getting a few reluctant chuckles from his ticklish boy.

 

Under the guise that he was properly taken care of, Will allowed himself to doze while he lay, Hannibal sitting nearby with his sketchpad. He wanted to immortalize Will like this in every way he could. Pleased that Will had drifted off into an afternoon nap, he went to get the Canon. Hannibal had asked for photos before the event, so he didn’t feel he was violating him in any way. Besides, these wouldn’t be shared with anyone but himself.

Satisfied that he had plenty of content of freckled Will, he went inside to fix them drinks. A phone call distracted him, discussing of their next shipment of flowers. She was a chatty thing. When he finally freed himself he went back outside with their drinks, and woke Will.

However, Will was no longer pale at all. In fact he was a very light shade of red. Hannibal of course found this beautiful, and figured a light sunburn wouldn’t be any problem.

 

A light sunburn was a problem. It was not a light sunburn. It was a deep, scalding sunburn within an hour. Will was spitting like an angry cat as Hannibal lathered him with aloe vera.

“You could have just fucking asked me, I would have- AH!” Hannibal and pressed a little harder at such rude language, “You could have just told me you wanted me tanner. I would have taken care of it…” This of course made Hannibal feel almost sheepish. He was being scolded, and he hated to be scolded.

“You don’t tend to like my ideas.” With that Will quickly rolled over to face him. He looked like a strawberry and vanilla ice cream. White on one side, pink on the other.   
“I humor almost all of your ideas, so don’t give me that.” He then rolled back over for Hannibal to finish putting the sticky gel all over his poor skin.   
“You were very beautiful.” Hannibal chided, with a defeated sigh from Will in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not really made by myself. I wrote it, and executed the idea, but please reference the post in the description to see the people who really brought this to life!


	5. Day 5 - Forgiven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Graham is still wrestling with the wendigo within him.

 

The world had its way of making the cliche so very true, life had hills and valleys. The ups and downs came, and Will Graham always rode through them, steadfast and jaw set. Behind his eyelids he sometimes saw himself in his boat, riding the waves steadily. Of course now he was no longer alone in this journey. 

Will was a very independent person, he always had been. His parents weren’t the kind of people that allowed dependency, so it was at a young age he learned to take care of himself. Or tried to. It’s instinctual to eat food, and wash yourself. However dealing with your own emotions, mental instabilities, that was not something that just came naturally. With no guide, he had to wander in the dark forests of mental illness by himself. Encephalitis was hardly his first encounter with his mind betraying him. Now, going into the dark woods, he had a hand to hold. If he allowed himself to hold it. There were some habits that had to be bled out to kill them, perhaps throwing them to the bottom of the ocean would help. He didn’t have it in him to do that. 

He couldn’t see anything above him in the darkness. Yet he was staring at the ceiling as if somehow he would see something, staring intently, angrily even. What had the ceiling ever done to him? His lids slowly slid shut, letting out a long sigh. 

“Will?” Hannibal asked from his side of the bed, rolling over. Will internally cringed, thinking he was already asleep before doing his humming and hawing. 

“I’m fine.” He lied, not very well either. The biggest sign was that he didn’t roll to face Hannibal as he usually would when they were in bed together, ready for some pillow talk. Of course Hannibal was an expert with body language, tone, and smell. No doubt even in the darkness he was reading Will like a book. It made him feel uncomfortable, exposed. His flesh was peeled back off his bones, and then his bones broken and pulled open to expose his soul. Why could Hannibal see so deep in? Perhaps he really was some sort of higher being, possessing a handsome body. 

“What plagues you?” Hannibal pressed, as he always did. 

“I’m not in the mood for psychoanalyzing tonight,” he huffed out, “I just wanna sleep.” Of course Hannibal was slightly miffed, and his jaw muscles worked for a moment. Will had to take a deep breath, rubbing his face and sighing out the breath he had just taken. “I am feeling… conflicted,-” he explained as best he can, “-I am feeling… guilty.” Hannibal was turning over to face him completely now, hovering over him slightly. He didn’t speak. Waiting for Will to continue, patient as always, “I feel like a monster.” His voice became tight, quiet, and shaky. “I don’t feel good for the things I’ve done… For the lives I’ve taken.” The florists face was following him around, something like Hobbs, but less vivid. 

“You don’t have to feel guilty for this, Will. This is who we are. This is what we are meant to be.” Will smiled shakily. His mind envisioned it. As Will wandered in the scary, desolate place alone, Hannibal came up behind him, and grasped his hand. He didn’t take the lead. Just walked with him. 

“You have to forgive yourself for what you have done, and move on. I won’t ever make you do it, you know that.” He reassured, and Will nodded. He then rolled into him, pressing his face into his bare chest, nuzzling the silver hair. 

“Thank you, Hannibal.” He whispered, and wrapped his arms about his strong torso. Even if Will hated himself, and was lost in the woods. Hannibal loved him, and would hold his hand. Hannibal couldn’t heal him. They both knew that, love didn’t cure mental illness. It did however, ease the pain of some of the symptoms. 


	6. Day 6 - History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Graham had a troubled childhood, and it had become his responsibility to make it end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! There are mentions of child abuse in this here chapter. I don't condone it in anyway, and is not meant to be glamorized. Thank you, I hope you enjoy!

E ** _veryone has thought about killing someone, one way or another,_ **

  


A teenage boy sat in front of the old tv, still equipped with large antennas and dials. It was scratched, and dingy screened. He washed it every once in a great while, but he was usually too busy doing other things to clean it. His bare feet were resting on the edge of the armchair he is sitting in. His back stings, and his face is bruised. Lips cracked, but not from chapping. A large gash from someone’s knuckles.

The rain sets the mood for the whole house truly. Dingy, dated, with furniture from the early 60’s that was way more than past its ‘best by’ date. The carpet was once a nice green, but now it was yellowed in some spots, and almost gray in others. It wasn’t a pretty house. Not very well cleaned either. The most decorations in it were alcohol bottles and dog hair.

Will’s overalls and t shirt covered the worst of the bruising and welting, besides what his father had left on his face. Bastard. His tongue poked out to feel the bloody crack, and winced. Best to just watch tv. Best to just escape, into whatever tv show he could find.

He had just turned 15 a few days ago, and he found it horribly fitting that he was born during the peak of tornado season. His life felt like a tornado. A giant storm that just never stopped. The only escape he had was his books, the tv, and his own imagination. He could run, and run with his imagination. His father couldn’t ever rip that out of his hands.

 

T ** _his is for the kids with the beaten in lips, whose parents try to shut them up using their fists._**

 

It was starting to get dark with storm clouds as he flipped from the news, not interested in Bob Dylan getting sick. He stopped on another channel, reruns of _21 Jump Street._ He liked to imagine himself as Tom, handsome and able to infiltrate the high schools to help kids. He wished it could happen at his school. He knew it was pretend though, and a dated show by now. It had been 6 years since it was actively running. Still, he imagined being a cop, and helping kids like him. Like his friends. All the outcasts and kids who didn’t have a voice. Will Graham was full of dreams, and pain.

His show was interrupted by the emergency alert system, beeping loudly and scrolling across the television. He quickly turned it down as not to wake his passed out father. It took a lot to wake him, but he wasn’t going to be the one to do it. The warning itself was for tornadoes. Not uncommon this time of year, and they were never that close to them. Still, he checked the weather just to make sure. As he did, he could hear the rain turn to hail and start pelting their tin roof. The weather man showed right where it was headed, and he realized it was going to be coming right at them.

He was quick to jump to action, quickly grabbing his jacket, and shoes. He got the leashes for the two dogs, and clipped them on. They were crying and pacing as he began walking towards his father’s room to wake him. Mid-hallway, he stopped. Staring at the closed door. He could hear him snoring. Still asleep, despite the hail. His heart began thrumming in his chest, his jaw tensing, making his ears shift. His lips tightened, making the split bleed again. With misty eyes, he turned the way he had come, knuckles white around the dog leashes.

Will had quickly grabbed a box of food, and some for the dogs, tears streaming down his face. Running out into the storm, the wind stole his breath away. His long curls whipped his face and he tightened his grip on the leashes as they fought their way to the shelter. He ushered each dog in, down the steps. He then latched and locked everything secure. After lighting the kerosene lamp, he sat down in the corner. The dogs laid themselves against him, panting from the stress of the situation. He cried into their fur, a mixture of grief, fear, and release.

 

T ** _his is the sound of your children revolting._**

  


Will stared at the rain coming down against the windowpane, safe in their cuban getaway home. When the wind blew just right, or he heard the rain on tin, he remembered that day. He wouldn’t ever forget that day.

In his peripheral vision he could see Hannibal staring at him, _admiring_ him. A smile stretched his lips, and he took a sip of his wine. He was at peace within himself.

  
  


b ** _e it your own hand, or the hand of God._**

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brownie points if you can guess what year it is by the small references made. 
> 
> Also, the lyrics that are placed in the middle of the works are from Beartooth's song Beaten In Lips.  
> The first and last quote are from Will Graham himself in Hannibal.


	7. Day 7 - Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal are about to settle down for some dinner, when Winston offers Hannibal the wrong kind of toy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is nothing but crack yo.

The house was as clean as it was going to get. Which was not very clean. He had even vacuumed the couch,  _ the couch,  _ so that Hannibal could have a comfortable, fairly clean place to sit. All remnants of alcohol were removed, and put into their respective cupboards.  Things were still dingy, but there was nothing to do about faded carpet. Except replace it. Will smiled to himself at that thought, knowing that would be exactly what Hannibal would suggest. 

The dogs began to bark from the knock on the door, and Will quickly ushered them away from the door to let Hannibal in. He felt so silly, like this would be some sort of date something. It was a friendly visit, Hannibal simply wanted to come, and provide dinner while they talked. Hardly dating material. 

Hannibal greeted him with a smile, “May I come in?” Always so cultured, and proper. It drove Will insane. Be normal, be… In his league. Just for once. 

“Come in, please.” He replied, trying to match his elegance. Hannibal came inside, and set the warm food down on the counter in the kitchen. 

“The table is set,” Will quickly said, “So at least that’s done.” He was so nervous, like a damn school boy. He couldn’t even keep his ‘cool guy’ persona on. 

 

And then.  _ It _ happened. As Hannibal moved to start dishing out plates, one of the dogs presented Hannibal with a toy to throw. Not. A. Dog. Toy. A very large, very thick, very blue, dildo. An impressive 12 inch length, with balls and a suction cup to boot. Will felt sick, his face completely ashy. Hannibal starred, starred for far too long. He then slowly looked to Will, who wouldn’t look at him in return. “You can take all of that?” 

Certainly not the reaction he was expecting, but he would gladly take it over all the other things he could have said. 


	8. Day 8 - Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has a secret admirer, but its far more complicated then a simple love letter.

Something was different in the air. Hannibal could smell it, an electrical smell, like before a thunderstorm. It lacked the smell of rain though, and the weather had said there wouldn’t be rain. No clouds near either. It was a mystery to him, but he wondered if perhaps he needed to invest in better dryer sheets, or something to that nature. Will could sense it too, but after discussion, and new dryer sheets, it still wasn’t changed. Plus he was beginning to feel like he was being watched, and Hannibal definitely didn’t like that. They continued their daily lives, and avoided speaking about it to keep each other from getting too edgy. 

Kaecilius watched them, quite often. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to, but he found them beautiful. Not so much the one with the cheekbones, but the curly haired ones. He was practically swooning in fact. As he watched him, his need to be near him grew. Eventually he made a portal, to see him face to face. Hannibal was gone to the market, and Will had stayed home to catch some rest. As if he didn’t spend most of his life now resting.   
Will jerked when he saw someone come in that wasn’t Hannibal. “Hello.” He greeted, adams apple bobbing with his nerves. Kaecilius smiled softly, and nodded gently.   
“Hello, Will.” He greeted, and Will was definitely disturbed. Sounded far too much like Hannibal. Staring at him, he could tell he looked a lot like him too.   
“My husband has all our money, and he’s away. There’s nothing worth stealing here.” To which Kaecilius laughed,  
“I’m certainly not here for your belongings. I just wanted to meet you.” Will’s eyes didn’t move from him, despite the movement behind Kaecilius. “I am from a different dimension, which I know you won’t believe.”  
Will assumed he was some sort of weird tweaker with wack makeup. It didn’t matter. As he spoke, a knife was shoved into Kaecilius’ back, who quickly hurtled himself forward, and through a circle that he pulled Will into with himself. Hannibal cried out, and tried to move through the circle with them, but it fizzled away before he could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might actually make this some sort of full fic i dunno.


	9. Day 9 - Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas has found a fresh start in America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just watched The Hunt last night and needed to give Lucas a lot of happiness somehow.

Lucas loved children, and that would never change. Even after what he went through, he longed to work with them again. He was a good teacher, and a patient man. It was obvious though, that his town would not be so lenient to let him start working anywhere around there. So, after things had fallen apart all over again, he decided to get far far away. Where none of this could follow.   
Due to his duel language skills, he was able to get a job at some odd experimental school. The children were taught in english for half the day, then Danish for the other half. He would work during the day, and then go to college three days a week. He wanted to become a properly certified teacher, since that was what was required outside of the world of his little village. At the moment he was just working under one of the other teachers. 

Math and Lucas were not friends. He was fine with simple numbers, but apparently it was important for someone who was majoring in early childhood learning to know the square root of 169, which, was 13. It didn’t make much sense to him why he was required to take it, but he had to earn the credits. It only took two weeks of class to figure out he was going to need a tutor. He didn’t have the money to pay, and the free ones only did day time tutoring. He consulted his instructor, who had suggested he text one particular student.   
Unsure about being social, it took him almost 24 hours to text the number, and explain exactly who he was.  
*Hello, this is Lucas, from your math class? Our professor suggested I might be able to get tutoring for you. I could pay you a little, but not a lot.*   
It was a long time before he got a reply, but he was eager to read it when he got it.   
*You’re not in my class. You’re in pre-algebra.* How embarrassing. He squirmed, and as he typed another text came in,   
*I’ll help you though. I can only do it tomorrow.* Lucas was quick to reply, telling him at what time he could meet him.   
  
Lucas didn’t think a park bench was very practical for a tutoring session, yet here he was. His books were sitting beside him. He wouldn’t be able to hold it in his lap, and write on his scrap paper. He was trying to work out quite awkwardly how he would do that, when he saw a curly haired young man dragging along a little wagon. It was an endearing sight really. As he got closer, Lucas found him to be quite nice looking. Not that he was gay, or anything like that.   
Adam Raki sat down beside him on the park bench, and pulled two little tables out from his wagon and showed Lucas how to set them up. “That is very clever of you.” Lucas commented, and Adam nodded, 

“I just like to be outside.” He explained. Lucas could certainly appreciate that as a sportsman.   
The tutoring session went well, Adam appreciated how receptive Lucas was to learn, and Lucas didn’t have too much difficulty figuring it out. There were some things Adam couldn’t explain, but just show him. Lucas was a good visual learner, so it worked quite nicely. Eventually, their conversations strayed away from math, due to Adam’s question,   
“Do you like space?” Lucas was nervous to answer that, as he wasn’t sure if he meant personal space, or as in the universe space. He smiled softly, and nodded, just hoping he was assuming the correct use of the word,   
“Yes, I like space. I like to look at the stars sometimes.” Lucas had never seen someone brighten as much as Adam did then. He was radiant with excitement,   
“I like to too! I try to every night. I work sometimes at the observatory.” He explained, voice becoming exuberant. Lucas found it captivating. What a passionate man. “Would you come look at the stars with me tonight?” The dane wasn’t completely sure if he should or not, but he wanted to make new friends. He only had a moment to war with himself, before Adam stated, “If you come with me, you don’t have to pay me for tutoring.” That sealed it. It was a win/win situation he wasn’t going to pass up. 


	10. Day 10 - After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will doesn't have experience with love making. Sex yes, but not what Hannibal gives. Aftercare is a foreign word to Will, but not when Hannibal is done with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut here, just fluffy aftercare because I am a ball of fluff.

Will was not exactly used to aftercare. He was more used to a ‘hit it and quit it’ kind of thing. That was basically what he stuck to throughout his life, female or male. They all got the same treatment, or gave him the same treatment. Sleepovers really weren’t a thing.   
So Hannibal not only staying the night, but taking care of him afterwards was something very new. Every bruise and bite mark he left behind, was taken care of with a cooling salve, and a few of his open wounds were quickly disinfected and a bandage put on. Then, to top it off, Hannibal was rubbing a warm oil into his sore back. Will was grateful, but certainly not used to it. Was he supposed to do anything for Hannibal? Surely there was something he was supposed to do in return. Yet, Hannibal didn’t ask, and god knew Hannibal would ask if it was that important. So Will allowed himself to be pampered, and taken care of. It felt nice, very nice. Sex felt even better when he wasn’t left feeling empty afterwards.   
  
Hannibal of course was just glad to be able to fawn over him so much. Being able to be so intimate with him, far beyond intercourse. He just wanted Will to be comfortable, and happy. Once he had finished his massage, he wiped his hands, and lay down beside Will. Will quickly moved to lay his head on his fuzzy chest, and nuzzle it gently.   
“Thank you…” He whispered, eyes closing with a content sigh. Hannibal smiled softly, and closed his eyes,   
“you are very welcome.” he replied. Will soon drifted off, and Hannibal dozed with him. 

Will would wake the next morning to breakfast in bed. Which was perfect, since walking wasn’t exactly an option right then.    



	11. Day 11- Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas and Adam meet for a second time, on another 'accidental' date. This time, at the local blood drive the college is putting on. It's Adam's first time, and he doesn't take to it very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since a couple people wanted me to continue Adam and Lucas ;u;

It was their second date. An odd date. Not a planned date either. Adam and Lucas just happened to both go to the same blood drive. It was their second not date, date. The campus was hosting it, and after seeing some flyers, Lucas was happy to do something good. He always was. Adam was there out of curiosity. He had never had his blood drawn for tests even, so he wanted to see what it would be like. They ended up standing in line together, sipping their special drink, and of course, Adam quickly mentioned the upcoming meteor shower.   
"It's tomorrow night, and I already have stuff set up. We don't have to be outside the whole time."   
Lucas found himself unable to say no to watching it with him, even though that night was supposed to be -11F that night. He would just bundle up. He liked to be around Adam, and the stars seemed to be the only thing Adam wanted to talk about. They were both nervous about getting too close, that much was obvious. He wanted to get much closer though, eventually. When they were both ready. For now, he liked to learn more and more about the universe.   
Lucas ended up going first, closing his eyes and relaxing back as they stole his blood. It wasn’t his first time, so he just sat back and relaxed. Adam soon joined beside him, and Lucas felt his uneven lips stretching in a smile. “Hello~” He greeted cutely.   
Apparently this flustered Adam, and wiggled just a little bit, “Hello…” It felt good to be close to Lucas while he was experiencing this new thing. He was a bit worried about passing out, but it felt too late to ask to stop. Lucas seemed to be pleased with his doing it too, so he pressed on. It was nice to sit with him, though he didn't know what to say.   
  
They had some small talk during their sitting, and once their little alarms beeped, were released and given the special bandaging. Adam was not pleased at the pain left in his arm. Nothing horrible, but he was extra sensitive. Lucas got up, and then wavered. Adam quickly pushed him back down to sit with a panic in his eyes. Which made Lucas, and a nearby nurse, giggle. “I’m okay. Just lost my balance a bit.” Adam wasn’t so sure, and eyed him as he let him up again. Adam was glad he himself felt fine.   
  
“You see, there are three different theories to how the universe may be expanding and…” As they walked to get their cookies and juice, Adam’s words suddenly slurred, cutting off his ecstatic talking about the expanding universe. Things suddenly got quite fuzzy, and he found himself in a whole new place. On a spaceship. No he wasn’t on a spaceship, he was at the college with Lucas. His eyes opened, and Lucas was gently stroking his curls, and offered him a cup of juice with a straw.   
“You passed out, I’ve got you sitting down…” He explained gently, concern in his hazel eyes. Adam smiled weakly,   
“‘M sorry... “ he huffed softly, and tried to readjust. Lucas shifted forward to keep him still,   
“Please don’t move around right now… The nurses said you should relax.” He explained, “I’m gonna help you at home, okay? They said you should lay down until you feel better.” Adam nodded weakly, though he was nervous about Lucas coming over. Nervous about getting over excited, or not saying the right things. Lucas smiled softly,   
"It's alright." He offered him a bite of cookie. He found he was really enjoying pampering Adam, taking care of the vulnerable little man. Lucas felt a little guilt for thinking of him as little. But he was, and so cute. He was falling for him, that was for sure.   
  
Lucas took Adam home, and tried his best to be his nurse. Perhaps he had done too much, went a little overboard, but Adam seemed pleased. They had dinner together, both sitting on his bed, and happily eating mac and cheese. 


	12. Day 12 - Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a continuation of yesterday's prompt.

Lucas hadn’t meant to spend the night, and it was certainly not the most exciting sleepover he had ever had. Adam had gotten better throughout the day, and by the time the sun had set, he was more than ready to go out and look at the stars. Lucas had not dressed warm enough, and dreaded the next nights hours long meteor shower.  
He had ended up sleeping on the couch, worried that Adam might fall ill again. Nothing exciting happened. Adam didn’t insinuate, and Lucas wasn’t going to push it. Wasn’t sure if he wanted to push it. He hadn’t been with a man before. He wasn’t sure if Adam had been before or not, but he was too shy to ask. So the most he got out of the night was a sore back. Wasn’t much of a couch sleeper.   
Since he was there, he decided to get started on some breakfast, finding eggs and some sausages. He started with toast once everything else was almost done, and Adam came in with wild hair, and tired eyes. He walked right past the plate of food. To the cupboard, and got a bowl and cereal out.   
“Oh no, I made breakfast!” Lucas said cheerily. Adam frowned, and stimmed nervously,   
“I don’t like that stuff…” He mumbled then poured himself the cereal, and added milk. Lucas stared, astonished. He hadn’t ever met someone who would so brazenly decide that they weren’t going to accept what someone made them. He just stared at him as he went to sit at the table, and begin eating his cereal. He was so embarrassed, and confused. They would have to have some sort of talk. Something more was going on, which he suspected from the beginning, but it was becoming more obvious. Lucas wanted an honest relationship, so he loaded his one plate with all of the food, then went to sit with Adam. He made it through his meal surprisingly, but was now so full he looked pregnant. 


	13. Day 13 - Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel lets Adam smoke for the first time. Nigel made a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea my writing is all over the place ^^; I hope you all enjoy despite it.

Nigel never planned to let Adam ever touch his cigarettes. Not because he was a selfish bastard or anything. He had no problem sharing, he had plenty of them. He just didn’t want to taint his little star. So when he was out smoking in the backyard, as requested, he was surprised to see Adam come outside in his new sweater, dotted with stars and variegated several different blues. Compliments of himself of course. He smiled to him unsurely, 

“Meteor shower tonight?” He asked, and was surprised when Adam didn’t respond. His fists were clenched shyly at his sides, thumbs working over each finger individually in his stimmy way. Nigel felt a little like butter on a hot day from it. Adam took a few steps closer, 

“Can I try?” It was a very soft question, and if Nigel hadn’t been acutely listening, was sure he wouldn’t have even heard it. He was even more surprised now. And now he was feeling like a bad influence. Which he was always quite proud to corrupt someone, but not him.   
“Star, I don’t think you’ll like it.” This gave a grumpy response from Adam, a huffy little sound from his throat.   
“I want to try.” He repeated, this time way more demanding. His shoulders slumped with defeat, and Nigel moved to hand him his lit cigarette.   
“How do I do it?” A shy smile was now stretching Adam’s perfect lips. This made him chuckle, and he demonstrated for him.   
“Put it to your lips, wrap your lips around it,” he was pleased at how dirty it sounded, “and then breath in through your mouth.” Adam nodded in response, then did as instructed.  His eyes watered, and he coughed out the smoke he had just inhaled. He probably should have made sure it wasn’t quite that hard of a hit. Adam continued coughing, and Nigel grimaced,  
“Fuck, try and relax. Try to stop coughing.” He encouraged, but Adam kept coughing, and then he started gagging, and then he started heaving. Nigel rubbed his back through the whole ordeal. It was definitely not his best move. He felt guilt, which was not something he usually felt, how fucking inconvenient.   
After Adam was done, involuntary tears streaming down his face, and trembling, he croaked out, “I peed.” To which Nigel let out a soft, “oh.” Then scooped him up, and carried him inside to clean him up. 


	14. Day 14 - Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam doesn't cope well with the embarrassment from the cigarette incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of yesterday's prompt! 
> 
> I found the facts [here](default.asp)

Things weren’t okay after Nigel had cleaned Adam up. He was careful, helping him undress, then helping him into the tub as he continued to shake, his face now freckled with red dots. Nigel was worried about that, but Adam explained it was blood vessels, and that it happened since he was a kid. Sated with that information, he just washed the piss off his poor star.   
Adam didn’t do well with embarrassment, or deception, or anything that made him feel meek. This was no different. Although it didn’t incite a meltdown, thank every god in existence, Adam was still very distant. Nigel was trying to learn what exactly autism was, and he figured it had to do with the fact that embarrassment is not a pleasant emotion, and a rathe overwhelming emotion. This was amplified for his little star. Now how was he gonna get Adam talking to him?   
Nigel’s first reaction was space, but that was a little broad. He got his tablet out, and fumbled around on google to find something interesting, something that Adam didn’t already know. Which was a feat all its own, considering Adam was a part of every single newsletter, club, and association he didn’t have to pay for. God dammit. He had to take a less obvious approach. Deciding that instead of telling Adam something new, he would let Adam know that he knew something that he wouldn’t expect him to know.   
Now, Nigel was not much of a reader. Wasn’t his thing, math was always his strong suit actually, but this was important. So like the fucking nerd Adam had made him, he got out a notebook, and began collecting any information that seemed would please Adam. It all seemed kind of dumb as he stared at it. It wasn’t dumb to starshine, so it wasn’t dumb to him. He jotted down notes in messy handwriting, then finally got the guts to approach Adam.  
That was another thing annoying about Adam. He made him nervous sometimes. Not in a ‘I don’t know how to handle you way.’ but more of a, ‘I hope you’ll still love me’ kind of way. Nigel should have known this would happen, after all when he loved, he loved hard.  
The ex-gangster sat, and just stared at Adam. He was so beautiful, even with his sulky expression, looking through his favorite picture book. Nigel cleared his throat, then looked down at his notes, “Lab rats sent into space during pregnancy, had tipsy babies because of the way their inner ears developed in 0 gravity.” he stumbled over it a little, and was glancing at Adam as he said it. He was listening, he could tell. He had tilted his head just right to hear him better. “Bodily fluids and shit flow up, so you end up with a fucked up nose and bones while in space. Get taller though, dunno if that’s really worth it.” He was relaxing, able to speak a little more like himself. He peeked to see that Adam was grinning ever so softly. “People who snore on earth, don’t in space. Which, I personally, think you would do well in space.” That made Adam smile more, and in turn made Nigel smile more. It was working. His stupid list was working. “Mission control in Houston used to play music to wake astronauts, keeping each little shit in mind when they played it.”   
Adam moved to lean into him, snuggling into his chest, which was becoming embarrassingly soft. He made Nigel drape an arm around him, holding onto his wrist. “Tell me more.” He demanded, of course in the sweetest way.   
“That’s all I got, star.” He murmured, but Adam looked up at his face with a huffy expression,  
“Find more then.” This made Nigel sigh softly with a soft ‘for fucks sake’, but he nodded, and reached for his tablet. He only pretended to mind. He would do anything to make him happy. Even if it meant reading aloud.   
“You don’t explode in space? What the fuck.” This actually had his mind blown, and Adam happily went into a tangent on what exactly actually did happen.


	15. Day 15 - Thunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal are orphans from the 1930's, reliant on each other for company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up doing a lot of research for it. I kind of want to make this a full series or something. What do you guys think?

The orphanage was quiet that night, besides the whisperings of some of the children speaking to each other. Conditions weren’t the best. They weren’t beaten or abused very much, but there wasn’t a lot of food, and even less space. Hannibal felt that he had eaten oatmeal all his life at this point. Terrible, bland oatmeal. He would rather eat paste. He berated himself for such a thought, afraid that things might come to that. It wasn’t looking good that was for sure. There were little comforts, little clothes, little of everything. Being outside was wonderful though. The yards were large, which was good. He even liked having to pick the apples at the local orchards, even though they didn’t get paid. It was just nice to be outside.

The rain began smacking against the window, wind whistling through the cracks. He pulled his thin blanket around himself, able to feel the dampness. The winter would be horrible, he hoped for a mild one. Lights flashed outside, and then the thunder rolled. It was only a moment later that the one little light in this dark place came padding into his room, carrying a ratty old blanket with him. In the darkness all Hannibal could see was the silhouette of curls, and the blanket dragging on the old wood floors. “Hannibal?” A soft whisper called.

“I’m here. Come here.” he whispered, “before you get us both in trouble.” The smaller boy quickly padded over to crawl into his bed, both of them just barely able to fit. “Some day, we are going to get caught, William.” he warned, but wrapped his arms about him despite it. Will nodded weakly,   
“I know, but it’s scary outside…” he told him, and hid his face against his thin chest.

Hannibal and Will were very different little people. In age, size, and upbringing. Hannibal grew up in a prosperous family, his father a conesure of the stock market. When it crashed in 1929, he lost his mind rather quickly. They lost everything rather suddenly, and found themselves homeless. What little money his father made, he pissed away on getting drunk. They were out on the streets for a few months, and when winter came, things only got worse. Mischa, his little sister, became horribly ill. They found refuge in a stranger’s home after begging. The group of bachelors took them in, and gave them food and shelter. However, after just a night, they demanded some form of rent. They weren’t allowed to leave until they paid it. Hannibal witnessed his sister being sold to these men for room and board. Then they took her, and although they all lived in the same home. He never saw her again. Him and his family assumed she was sold off to someone else. However, one night he was up late. Just laying in the darkness, when he heard the drunk men talking. Talking about Mischa, “When do you think they’ll figure it out she been feeding them for a while?” One asked the other, who grunted,

“Keep it down, and never. Ain’t a person who can tell pork from human.” Hannibal felt ill from this, and chills rocked through his body. He then realized that he would be next. His parents would sell him off too. That couldn’t happen. So one early morning, he left. Never went back. Comforted only by the fact that Mischa would always be with him in some way. So at age 12, he found himself at the orphanage. He had taken himself, and begged for shelter. He was pitiful enough looking at the time for them to take him. The right age range as well. Big enough to work, and less likely to get sick from every little thing that went around the place.

Will’s journey to the orphanage was far different. His parents were farmers, and when the stocks crashed things were okay still. They struggled, but not as badly as others. They lived off the land already. That winter though, momma fell sick, and then died of pneumonia. Soon after, daddy followed after her. Living out in the middle of nowhere, the body just lay there in his bed. Will lived there with his two dogs, living off what was left stored in the barn and fridge. That began running out though, and they all ended up getting thin.  They lived mostly on the cow’s milk, glad that daddy had taught him how to milk her years ago. A telegram had been sent by his father to momma’s family, but it took a little over a month after his father passed before someone had arrived. Finding Will there with the dogs, they quickly took them all into the nearest town. The dogs were given off to some folks Will knew, as he requested. However Will’s fate was the orphanage. After living with his dead father for a month, he was now all alone in a big place where no one really loved him. He was just shy of 8 years old when he arrived.

Will was a stand offish boy, with tired, sad eyes. He didn’t play with the other children. The other children didn’t like him very much. He didn’t like them either. Hannibal liked to be social, and play. Only if he got to make the rules, and pick the games. This only lasted a little while before the children grew sick of his bossiness, and he too found himself an outsider.

They properly met when Will had been bullied for the pennies he had earned for doing extra chores. One of the older boys, almost old enough to leave the home, was rattling him quite fiercely to try and get the change from him. Will was stubborn, reluctant to give the older boy the change. He had just been socked in the mouth, falling back on his rump when he saw someone come over, and box the boys ears. Both at once, in one calculated, brutal blow. Frederick howled in pain, stumbling back and holding his ears, making way for Will to see his savior. Hannibal bent down, and offered him a hand, “Come on. Let’s go inside, and clean up.”

That was the start of a fast friendship. Will was 9 at the time, Hannibal 14. Yet they became inseparable, despite their seemingly different polar opposites.

  
So there they were, cuddled in the drafty room, thunder angrily shaking the rickety structure. Will was curled up into him, blankey pressed between them. Hannibal had his arms wrapped around him, and hummed quietly to him. Just enough that Will could hear it through his chest. They were safe together, and had long decided they would always stick together, no matter what.  


	16. Day 16 - Delicate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal is lonely, and needs someone who won't leave. Someone who can't leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being creepy and has body horror and elements of torture. Nothing too graphic. Just be aware.

“More tea, William?” A silky voice asked, the lights dim as always. Will nodded his head, and smiled to Hannibal, 

“Yes please.” was his reply, and Hannibal was proud to know his teachings were doing well to train him in manners. He poured him more tea, but Will just stared at it with glassy eyes. Hannibal moved his hand to the cup, then manipulated his fingers to hook around the delicate handle. He assisted his arm to bring the cup to waiting lips, stormy blue’s never leaving him. Will’s adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. It was far too hot. 

An eerie smile graced Hannibal, and he sat down at the lavish table. Much smaller than his old dining table. This was small, special for such occasions. Will was dressed beautifully. A victorian style girls dressed, his facial hair shaved away, covered in white foundation, powder, and a soft rouge for his cheeks. Hannibal loved Will’s eyes as they were, but he decorated them with a gentle brown liner, not too harsh, but enough to really make them shine.   
Hannibal was dressed accordingly, bringing out one of his finest suits, preserved carefully from the late victorian era. Forest green vest, and a lavish overcoat that was currently unbuttoned. He was not so excessively painted as Will, simple eyeliner and some light powdering to lighten his skin-tone. 

Now William was truly the finest, saved for special guests. Saved for himself actually. All his own. Will was the perfect  little doll, and was learning quickly to obey. Punishment was swift, although always careful not to leave marks. Couldn’t ruin such a perfect complexion. His mouth however, well… He didn’t use it often anyways. Each tooth was removed for punishment. Eventually he was hoping to be able to replace them all, make them perfect, straight and white. Then he would truly be complete. 

Will made a protestant noise when he was made to drink the tea, but knew better than to spit it out. It burned all the way down to his gut, and his throat spasmed in protest. Hannibal just continued to smile, “Good boy.” He praised, and stroked his perfectly pampered curls. “You are, the perfect doll.” 


	17. Day 17 - Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is not a brave boy, but Hannibal can't do everything for him. It takes a lot to approach a pretty lady and ask a question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More orphan babies! Sorry it's short ;u; I have a cold. I hope you all enjoy!

“It’s important you learn to do this yourself.” Although he knew he was trying to be nice, Hannibal’s words somehow hurt Will’s young little heart. He wanted Hannibal to do it. He wanted Hannibal to take care of him. The older boy had to remind him sometimes that he wasn’t his parent. That they were friends. Will cried those nights after Hannibal would tell him these things, and make him feel so very alone. He knew it was true though. Hannibal couldn’t be his daddy or mommy. Just his friend, and sometimes Will would have to do things by himself. He hated to speak, unable to overcome a speech impediment that made his R’s come out wrong. A lot of the ladies at the orphanage reprimanded him for it, but didn’t do much to help him. Hannibal did his best, but they were busy now that it was fall, and the apple orchards were in full swing. He was tired and hungry a lot lately, which made him more snappy. More painfully aware of everyone else’s pain.

“I’ll be standing right here.” Hannibal reassured, and Will felt a lot better from that. He then took brave steps, even if they were small. He approached one of the women sewing nearby, his blanket clutched tight in his hold. White knuckle tight.

“Excuse me…” his voice was soft, and it wasn’t heard over all the other noises and voices around them in the large food hall. “Excuse me!” He yelled then, and his blue eyes went wide. The woman’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “Sowwy! I’m sowwy!” he cried out then, and his blanket covered his mouth.

“It’s okay, what do you need?” She was patient, and Will found her pretty, realizing she was new, and didn’t even mention his impediment. She noticed the tear in his blanket then, “ohhh, I see. Here, let me see. I’ll fix it right away.” She set down what she was doing, and pulled a fresh needle and a close matching blue to the ratty blanket. Will handed it over, eyes sparkling. “Thank you!” He then ran off, back to the safety of Hannibal. He felt flutters in his tummy from the anxiety and nervousness. She was awful pretty…

“You did it.” Hannibal was smiling, waiting for him. Will nodded proudly and smiled,

“She said she’s gonna take care of it right away!” Hannibal nodded, then pressed a hand to Will’s back,

“Lets get in line for food before they run out now, okay?” To which Will responded with pleased nods.


	18. Day 18 - Patient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The computer is broken, and the doctor is in. Adam is a home visiting computer technician. Elias is a love struck bull with a lot of porn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this idea was rolling around in my head, and I honestly picked a prompt word that could work closest to it.

“I told you not to turn off your security, and not to download just anything, even if it does seem legitimate.” Adam was very irritated at his client, but he knew better than to be snappy. He had to take extra classes just to get to a point where he could work with the public after all. 

“I didn’t turn off the security! I wouldn’t ever do such a thing. How could you insinuate I am so stupid?” Elias huffed through his nose with irritation, lips pursing and his eyes going wide for a second. Adam stimmed nervously, 

“I’m not calling you stupid, I’m just explaining why you shouldn’t do it.” Adam knew very well that Elias had both turned off the security, and downloaded dubious content. Pornography. His computer was riddled with it. He seemed quite unashamed of his collection, since it was all over his computer, uncensored. It wasn’t tucked away in a secret folder or put in a folder at all. Most images and videos he seemed to download directly to the desktop and open from there. Adam figured he didn’t know how to download it any other way. Though he didn’t seem to care anyways. 

“It has a mind of its own, the stupid thing does whatever it wants and I can’t control that. I don’t download anything that isn’t legitimate. I’ve paid for some of this. Well. Someone paid for it anyways. Currency was transferred that’s all that matters.” Elias was obviously flustered, and trying to hide it. Lucky for him Adam wasn’t clueing it at the moment, trying to solve the issue on his PC. 

“I’ll try to download a more simple... “ He thought about his words, remembering some of his training, “A better security program.” Something that wouldn’t need as much maintenance. Not that this was did either, but this might actually stick. 

The real truth was that Elias liked Adam a lot. He thought he was pretty, he smelled nice, and was very smart. He didn’t have the courage to ask him on a date, so he kept downloading whatever looked sketchiest. He did have a nice porn collection though, but it was unrelated. Mostly. The first time Adam came, it was because he had downloaded something especially nasty, and it came with malware or spyware or something like that. Elias couldn’t remember. Today, however, he was going to do it. He was going to ask Adam to go out to dinner with him. Away from his brothers, because they were all idiots. 

Adam finished his work, sighing softly. “It’s all done, it should be fine now. Just be careful.” He smiled, though it was a little forced. Elias didn’t even care, it was a pretty smile.

“Ah yes, thank you. Very swift. Couldn’t have done better myself. Wonderful. Thank you.” He wanted to run out of the room. But he was a strong bull! He could do this! “Would you go out with me?” 

Adam stared at him in silence for quite some time, hands actually flapping now. He took deep breaths, trying to figure it out if he should or not. His lips twitched before he spoke, “I guess, if you really want to. I don’t like restaurants.” He wasn’t sure why he was saying yes. He hadn’t been on a date in a long time. Nobody had shown such bold interest. He liked that. 

“No restaurants? Well then we can…” was a Cafe a restaurant? Yes he supposed so. “We can have dinner at your house!” Adam wasn’t so sure about that either, but at least he was guaranteed mac and cheese that way. 

“Okay.” was his simple reply, “What time, what day?” 

“Tonight?” Elias asked hopefully, beaming, smiling from ear to ear. His cheeks were so round when he smiled. 

“Okay, my last appointment is at 5. So maybe around 7.” That was his usual dinner time, so it would be perfect if only Elias would agree. 

“Yes! Perfect. Tonight at 7, I will be there. Give me your address, quickly, please.” Adam quickly scribbled it down, feeling nervous still. Elias was now being loud, which was annoying. After a short exchange, he left. 


	19. Day 19 - Raw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is too curious to see if Hannibal, the feared god, is real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a short drabble that could use some expanding but eh.

The smack of meat against stone echoed through the forest. A raw offering to the forest deity. The men who left it scrambled away quickly, all except one. His young mind was too curious, too brave really. Will wasn’t afraid of much. He had seen plenty of horror’s throughout his life, he wasn’t afraid of no so called deity. 

The woods is silence, and Will gives a snort, the teenage boy hardly impressed. Of course there was nothing out here. Animals probably came and took the offerings. Once again, the village was full of shit. Still, something compelled him to stay and watch. 

Just as he suspected, a man showed up. Though it wasn’t one he knew. No one from the village that was for sure. He was tall, and looked strong. Will found him appealing to his blue gaze. What was truly impressive was the fact this ‘man’ was able to just hoist the whole deer carcass onto his shoulder, and began walking away from the stone. 

“Hey!” Well that was stupid. He was now standing where he had just been crouched. The man stopped, and turned. He seemed irritated that Will saw him. Perhaps it was because he was very much naked. After making eye contact with Will, he began walking back into the woods. 

Will felt heat rolling through his body. His eyes were blood red. The same color red as the storytellers described as the eyes of the gods. Truly this man couldn’t be a god though. He didn’t match the stories of antlers, black skin, and long claws. 

He decided to do yet another dumb thing, and follow this man into the woods, “Hey! I was talking to you. That’s our offering, you can’t just take it.” He was jogging to catch up, but the man stealing the meat wasn’t moving any faster. He didn’t change his pace, or look at Will even once he was at his side. “Can’t you talk, or maybe you are deaf, and that’s why you’re in the woods?” he pressed, and then finally the man looked to him. 

“Go home, child.” Of course Will was offended by this.   
“I’m not a child, I’m almost 16! I don’t want to go home, not until you give me back our offering.” The man seemed amused by this, but showed no signs of giving up the carcass. Will was getting frustrated. 

“This is not yours, this is mine. Your village gave it to me.” His voice was rich, heavily accented. An accent Will was unfamiliar with though. At a second glance, he noticed that the man’s ears were quite pointed, elven in nature. At least he assumed, since he hadn’t met an elf before. 

“If you’re a god, then prove it to me.” Will challenged, a brasan boy by nature. “If you are the feared, Hannibal, God of the hunt, and forest, then prove it.” Hannibal stopped, and set the deer carcass down. He stared at Will for a moment, then to the deer. His voice suddenly boomed, shaking the trees. It rolled from his chest like thunder. Or was it from the sky? Will wasn’t sure but he found himself ducking slightly. He couldn’t understand the words he spoke, but then the sky really did flash with lightning, and the thunder shook the trees again. Will’s eyes closed tight as the rain drove down against his face. “Alright alright!” He yelled over the wind and thunder, and the storm subsided just as quickly as it came. “I have a lot of questions for you.” he decided, and the god just grunted, picked up his offering, and continued walking.


	20. Day 20 - Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Road trips aren't always fun, especially when you're all kinds of cut up.

The car had long become cramped. It became cramped four states ago. The air inside it felt stale, despite the windows being cracked from time to time. In short, both Hannibal and Will were both very grumpy. Tired, sore, and still nursing wounds. 

Will was praying for some food, and Hannibal was praying for a comfortable bed. But they had to keep a low profile, which meant they would be staying at the nearest motel. If there was a motel in existence in Montana. They didn’t have a destination, and that made everything worse. Until Hannibal got his special money from his distant friends, they were having to just drive around and pray they weren’t caught. 

“Can we turn on the radio?” Will asked, a brow cocking as an almost challenge. Hannibal let out a long, dramatic sigh, 

“It depends on what you decide to play on the radio.” His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as he spoke. Will resisted a smirk, and pressed the button to make it come on. It was currently set to static, and he began seeking through channels. Nothing but country. He promptly turned it off, to both of their relief. Silence filled the air. Uncomfortable, making the car seem even more stuffy than it had been already.

Will finally looked over at Hannibal after a few miles. There was a lot of things he felt he needed to say. That should have been said a long time ago. He didn’t know how to put any of it into words. “I’m sorry.” It came out so lamely, he physically cringed from it. Hannibal of course just looked to him with raised brows, 

“Are you, for the radio?” Will was irritated by this. Hannibal knew damn well it wasn’t the radio he was talking about. He slumped down in his seat, and stared out the window. In his mind’s eye, the stag ran alongside their car, jumping and dodging obstacles.

“You know that’s not what I meant, and now I don’t want to talk about it.” Will scowled, and Hannibal simply tensed all over again. A part of Will just wanted to jump out, and go back. Prison might be better than all of this… He didn’t though. He knew that this was some sort of twisted destiny. 

Finally, a ray of hope in the distance. A sign for vacancies at a dumpy motel. 

“Hannibal please!” Will cried it, it damn near sounded like a sexual plea. Hannibal couldn’t say no to that, and he turned into the dirt parking lot. They got out, and were finally able to stretch. Both of their aching bones relieved. The tension in the air didn’t subside though, even as they checked in under pseudo-names. 


	21. Day 21- Honestly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After bedding down at a dumpy hotel, Will has to share the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it. I joined the sin club. There be smut in this here drabble.  
> I really didn't plan on putting smut in these prompts just to keep it all... I dunno.  
> They wanted to fuck and I couldn't stop them X"D

“I want to go back.” The words shook Hannibal to the core. His eyes opened, and he shifted to face Will more directly. They were crammed on a full size bed, which protested in soft groans, obviously wanting to be put to rest after a long life of servitude. He propped his elbow, and held his head in his hand lazily. 

The car ride had been tense, yes, and stuffy. He knew it wasn’t the hotel, though it did have cobwebs in the corners and boards on the window, or the stuffy car that was making Will want to go back though. He didn’t know what exactly it was, besides perhaps a change of heart. 

“I think about going back. I’ve been thinking about going back.” Will explained, and Hannibal was becoming more and more dismayed. What would he do now? Just turn himself back in he supposed. Or just go on the run without Will. Did Will realize that he was a wanted man now just as much as Hannibal? Certainly he couldn’t just go home to his wife and dogs. Should he get Will a puppy? These questions swirled like a tornado, threatening to uproot the foundations of his memory palace. 

“I know it’s best for me.” Hannibal was now realizing that Will couldn’t ever harm him with a knife. Not with the kind of pain he inflicted upon him with these words. Bitter words he had heard in the past, and now these cruel words. They didn’t sound cruel though. They were low and gentle, like one might talk to someone at a funeral. He wished he would be bitter and rude. Not like this. No gunshot, knife, or the brand on his back could ever hurt like this. His eyes closed, and a few tears slipped down his sharp cheekbones. He then lifted his head, set his jaw, and took a deep breath. He sighed it out before speaking, 

“You may go. Take your things. I will give you what money I can so you can go back.” He finally looked at Will, who was staring with his doeish eyes, so soft and blue. They didn’t hold their usual storm and crashing waves. Today was a calm day in the sea of Will’s eyes. 

Will shifted his body closer, the bed creaking with pain. Will creaked in pain a bit too. Calloused fingers reached to gently feel along a cheekbone. Not so defined as they had been in years before, but still sharp. His fingers moved to feel along the hollow beneath it, and he smiled to himself, just a twitch to the edges of his lips. Women would kill for such contour he imagined. 

“Hannibal, I’ve thought about going, I know that it would be best for me. I’m not going though.” Low tones carried the confession, whispered to him, gut tight. Hannibal’s body relaxed, and a hand quickly moved to grasp the side of Will’s face, gripping just enough to convey his earlier panic. “I don’t want to leave… I don’t think I can leave.” He continued.

Hannibal grasped his wrist, and pulled it away from his cheeks, and pressed his lips to his curled fingers. 

Hannibal was rendered speechless. Or perhaps he just didn’t wish to speak. They had talked and talked about a lot of things over the years. Metaphors and analysis. Small talk, and laid back conversation. Perhaps this time, words weren’t what they needed. 

They both shifted, and the bed complained. Will was rolled onto his back, Hannibal hovering over him slightly. Hannibal sat on his hip, legs tucked up under him, an arm on each side of Will. He looked into his eyes again, the wind was stirring in them. Will propped himself up on his elbows, and craned his head to angle his lips towards the others. There was a pause, a few heartbeats, before Hannibal closed the gap. It was a soft touch, not shy, just soft. Just as it had come, it passed, their bodies breaking contact. 

Will squirmed up so he could sit up more, springs popping and crunching beneath his weight. Strong arms wrapped around Hannibal, but they didn’t use the force he knew they could. Will’s hand splayed across his back, and he whispered softly against his lips, 

“I can feel you…” The corner of his lips stretched into a small smile again. At first Hannibal thought this was some sort of metaphor. Then quickly realized it was definitely not a metaphor that was pressing to Will’s thigh. 

He was a little flustered over it, but Will shushed him softly, and kissed him again. This time it wasn’t as innocent. His mouth opened slightly, and of course Hannibal responded. Their tongues pressed together, lips closing on each other before their mouths slipped apart for a moment. Only to reconnect in the lewd kiss. Will doubted the French really discovered a kiss like this. He would ask Hannibal about it later. 

“I haven’t showered.” Will warned, and Hannibal simply nodded,

“Or brushed your teeth. Me neither.” He then kissed him again. Will returned it, despite his comment on the teeth brushing. 

Neither of them were brave enough to start undressing the other. For a moment, they just stared at each other, which brought a chuckle from Will, 

“Perhaps a coin flip?” He succeeded in making Hannibal smile in return. 

“Perhaps time is what we need.” Hannibal suggested, and Will made the same face one makes when you taste an especially sour lemon. 

“Five years is plenty of time.” He then grabbed Hannibal’s shirt, and tore it open. Buttons of course went popping, and so did Hannibal’s eyes. “I’ve always wanted to do that~” Will admitted with an impish smile. Hannibal just stared, mouth slightly agape. His lover took advantage of his shocked silence, and began to tug the shirt off, grunting softly. After a few feeble tugs, and squeaks from the bed, Hannibal helped him get it off. 

As Will’s hands went to grab the undershirt beneath, Hannibal shot a hand up to grab his wrist. “Don’t.” This got a nice eye roll from Will, 

“I won’t, now let go, or I’ll leave you here.” He threatened playfully. Hannibal let his wrist go, then lifted his arms so Will could get it off. Work worn hands caressed over his fuzzy chest, admiring its masculinity. Only for a moment, before a hand reached down to unbutton his pants, and tug the zipper open. Now Will was becoming shy. 

Hannibal decided it best for him to take over, tugging his pants off, and letting them toss onto the floor. He then abruptly grabbed Will’s T-shirt, and ripped it open. This gave Will all sorts of feelings and none of them were offense. He leaned up to kiss him again, Hannibal’s hands moving to get Will’s pants off. He fumbled with the zipper, and Will cursed himself for wearing jeans with a sticky zipper. Hannibal abandoned it though, and just began tugging his pants down, Will lifting his butt up to assist. There was only briefs and boxers between them now. 

The bed screeched when Hannibal was shoved onto his back, Will now hovering over him. Their kissing continued, hands sliding over each other. Exploring, and learning. Revisiting certain areas that had been felt before. Most of it was new though. Will’s fingers bumped lazily over his ribs, while Hannibal felt his back muscles shifting and bunching with each movement. 

Will trailed his hand down to feel the outline of Hannibal’s cock, quite obvious in its current state. He pulled the band down in the front, and tucked it under Hannibal’s balls. Hannibal had to close his eyes, and just let it soak in for a moment. His memory palace was full of moments like these. All different scenarios. None of them included a dumpy motel and creaky bed. He would certainly take it though. 

Fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, beginning a slow pumping motion. Hannibal’s breath shuddered out of him, and their lips met again. He found himself in a bit of a situation. His own cock had been saved from being mutilated as an infant. Will being born in the US didn’t have it so easy. Which meant lube would be needed. Which meant the mood would be killed. For once he wasn’t prepared and he was quite upset about it. 

“Lubricant.” Hannibal grunted out. Will nodded, and quickly got up, the bed letting out an awful cry as he did. He shuffled to one of his bags, grabbing a small bottle of hand lotion. He was back on the bed in a few moments, and kissed Hannibal softly, 

“Thank you,” He whispered against him, having been afraid he would try and rub him without lube for the aesthetic. 

Hannibal tugged Will’s boxers down, then took the lotion. As he prepared, Will returned his attentions to him. Hannibal’s head fell back, moving to gently grip Will’s length with a lotioned hand. His breaths were coming heavier as he began slow stroking. Their lips met again, Will’s hips beginning to roll gently now with Hannibal’s rhythm. Hannibal couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful he was. Will’s thumb rolled over the head of his cock, and Hannibal sighed heavily, 

“Will…” The bed was now squeaking along with Will’s movement, springs grinding and popping again. It didn’t phase either of them, Hannibal’s pace quickened, giving a twist now on the way up the shaft each time. Wills thumb continued to roll over the head, making Hannibal’s toes curl and groans come growling from his chest. Will let out beautiful pants, becoming louder with each passing moment. 

“That’s so good…” Hannibal praised, and Will simply nodded, kissing him and moaning into his mouth. All for the better, as they were making enough noise as it was. Will gave a rather harsh squeeze, maybe too harsh. Not for Hannibal, he jerked, but let out a long groan. Will smiled softly, before his face twisted in pleasure as a finger stroked along the corona of his cock. Both of their hands became more frantic, and in turn, they both got louder. 

Hannibal’s groans were becoming breathy, and desperate as he neared climax. The tension in his gut seemed to be coiling as tight as it could, so close to releasing. They were pressed close, chests touching. Hannibal could feel Will’s hot breath which each noise and pant he made. Beautiful groans and whimpers. 

Will came first, his face scrunching, teeth bared and brows furrowed. “Hannibal, Hannibal, Hannibal, oh f-fuck..” He chanted out, dribbling cum down onto Hannibal. The bed was screeching, Will unable to keep his hips from bucking forward into Hannibal’s hands. He kept a tight grip on his boy, letting him fuck his hand through his orgasm. Hannibal took over stroking himself, only needing a few moments before he followed right after Will. He kissed him as he came, groaning from his throat into his mouth, stomach muscles beginning to contract and twitch as he added to the mess on his tummy. 

 

Will lay beside Hannibal, who was now cleaned up but no more dressed than before. More naked in fact, both their underwear abandoned on the floor. Will’s boxers used to crudely clean up the mess for the time being. Both their cheeks were flushed, hair sticking to their foreheads. Hannibal kept gently kissing Will’s forehead, arm wrapped about him, his fingers caressing his shoulders softly. Something was nagging at Will though, and he looked to Hannibal with a serious expression, 

“Hannibal, did the French really make French Kissing?” 


	22. day 22 - Funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal decide to dance on the grave of their victim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just Will and Hannibal being shits p much.   
> Also I truly have nothing against conservatives, and consider myself a conservative in quite a few areas so please don't be offended. I really just used a stereotype to paint a picture ;u; 
> 
> Oh also I pulled the food name and wine to accompany it from google I have no idea about that kind of stuff.

It was a quaint funeral. Small, humble. There was a small crowd, a person with little friends and family in the world. They all fit the same demographic, simple people with blue collar jobs. Average people. They all blended together. Except, two men in the back. They attempted to blend in, but everyone was whispering about them. Nobody knew them, or could figure out who they were. At first it was assumed they were funeral staff of some sort. 

They didn’t participate in any of the usual mortuary activities during the events, so they had to wonder what they were doing there. The new rumor was that they must have been friends of the deceased. Distant perhaps, or private friends. Perhaps the deceased was into some shady business that no one had been aware of? 

Said two men would smile ever so slightly when they caught wind of one of these rumors. The little whispers and looks. They attended the showing, then the funeral itself. They paid their respects, and took part in the small dinner afterwards. Finally someone got the guts to actually ask, 

“Are you friends of Jacobs?” The young woman asked, and Will smiled softly, 

“Yes, my husband and I were very close to him.” To emphasize the husband part, Will laid a hand on Hannibal’s arm. The woman looked as if Will had just fucking bent down, and went to town on Hannibal’s dick. She tried to be cuth with a nod, spinning around to retreat back to her table.

You see, the deceased was a very conservative man. The american flag plastered on his truck, bumper stickers on gun control and statements on conservatism. His close friends and family shared those views. Nothing that directly blighted the murder husbands. 

However he was also an outspoken man about his beliefs. He wasn’t afraid to use colorful language. So when Will and Hannibal found themselves in line for customer service at the grocery store, they were both appalled to hear the man complaining about them. He used a certain F word to describe their togetherness. Not the one Will occasionally used when he banged his toe, or banged Hannibal. A very rude word. 

It turns out though, that even a bigot's liver goes quite well as _pâté de foie gras_ , complimented wonderfully by a glass of Sauternes.


	23. Day 23 - Imaginary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam has an active imagination that sometimes runs away on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I self projected a little with this yikes.

Finally quiet. Toys littered the floor, and a tired Adam was slumped back on the couch. A curly haired blonde toddler was asleep on the floor, blanket on him, and tablet near him that was playing some child’s video on youtube. Adam stared at the tv, though he wasn’t listening to or paying attention to what was going on it. He was just enjoying the quietness. He felt worn ragged. But it was something that he wouldn’t trade for anything. Not even to be able to go to space. 

Nigel quietly entered their home, cologne trying to cover up his smoky smell. The curl to Adam’s features told him it wasn’t doing the trick. 

“Sorry, darling.” He whispered, carefully stepping through a minefield of toys. “Are you okay?” he asked before he gasped in a breath and lifted his foot. “Fuck fuck!” He made sure to whisper it and hopped to the couch. He flopped down beside Adam, who squirmed away to let him recover. He wasn’t good with helping with pain. He couldn’t even handle his own pain very well. 

“Does it hurt very badly?” He asked after a few moments of silence. Nigel shook his head, and smiled. He leaned over to kiss his temple, 

“No, i’m fine.” he reassured, “I’m sorry for my smell.” He was working on quitting. He had cut back on the smoking quite a bit anyways. The attempt was appreciated at least. Adam pushed himself into Nigel’s side, tucking his head under his armpit so he had to put his arm around him. 

  
Adam came back to reality, looking to Nigel with a worried expression before looking away. Nigel hadn’t even ever held his hand. He felt ashamed for thinking of such serious things. Imagining these things. He clasped his hands together, as smoke curled from Nigel’s lips. He stared down at his lap for a moment, shoulders slumping. 


End file.
